Once In A Lifetime
by granthamfan
Summary: A series of one-shots written from drabble prompts I have received on Tumblr. I chose this particular title because Cora and Robert have a once in a lifetime love.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: The very first drabble prompt I ever received on Tumblr was this one from my friend, modernamericangirl: "Hey, have you seen the…? Oh." Cobert, obvs ;)_

Robert stood in the doorway of his wife's dressing room, a bemused expression affixed to his face as he observed Cora fumbling through the drawers of her vanity. "I know it's in here somewhere," he heard her mutter under her breath. He watched for another moment as she haphazardly tossed things to the side, the floor surrounding the table now littered with handkerchiefs and gloves.

A month had passed since Cora's 30th birthday. As a surprise for his darling wife, Robert had booked passage for the five of them for America. It would be Cora's first trip back to her homeland since their marriage nine years previously, and it would be the first time he or their daughters would be seeing the New World. Their belongings had been packed for days. What could she have forgotten?

"Darling, the carriages are waiting out front. We're due at the station at any moment. The trunks have been packed and loaded, and the girls are beginning to get a bit cranky. What on earth are you looking for?"

"The silver locket Father gave me before our wedding. I want to wear it while we're in America. I haven't worn it in quite sometime. I know it's in one of these drawers. It has to be. I just have to find it."

Robert knew the locket of which she spoke. She had mentioned bringing it the night before, and had placed it in her handbag so that she wouldn't forget it. However, it appeared she had done just that. Smiling to himself, Robert intoned "Cora? Love, you put it in your handbag last night. Remember?"

Cora whirled around to face her husband, her eyes bright with excitement and relief. "Oh, thank goodness!" she exclaimed. "I was afraid I had misplaced it." Her joy, however, was short-lived as she once again began searching for something.

Shaking his head Robert reached over and retrieved the handbag from where it sat on top of their bed. As he did this, Cora turned to him again. "Robert? Have you seen my…oh." She blushed a deep crimson as she observed her husband still stood in the doorway with her handbag in his hands. She crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a loving kiss to his lips. "Thank you, darling," she said sheepishly as she stepped back and took his hand in hers. "Whatever would I do with out you?"

Chuckling, Robert laced their fingers together and led her into the hallway. "I don't know," he said. "I honestly don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

Prompt from ohtobealady: "Everything's going to be fine." Robert to Cora? Pretty please :)

Robert stopped short of the door of their bedroom, taking a moment to gather himself before entering. The events of the day had left him drained of all energy, but he needed to pull himself together. He needed to be strong for Cora.

Most of the day had been a blur. He remembered how happy they had been that morning. It had only been a couple of weeks since the announcement that he and his wife were to be parents again. After eighteen years, they were going to have another baby. That morning he had awoken to the vision of his wife sitting next to him in bed, propped against her pillows. Her eyes were closed, but a peaceful smile graced her lips as she slowly ran her hands over the swell of her abdomen. His breath hitched as he watched her, the smile on her face and the soft glow that radiated from her working to make his heart all but burst from happiness.

And then everything had shattered. He could vaguely remember Mrs. Hughes hurrying toward him, telling him that Cora had fallen and that the doctor had been sent for. The concerned looks on his daughters' faces as they worried about their Mama. The words the doctor had spoken after it was all over. "I'm so sorry, Lord Grantham," he had said. "The baby didn't make it. It was a bit touch and go with her ladyship for awhile, but she will be fine. I'm sorry that I couldn't save your son." His son. The words had rang in his ears as he stood by the window of his dressing room looking out over the estate; the state that he would have passed down to his son. He had gone in to Cora after he had collected himself the first time, and the words of her sobbed apology had haunted him all evening. She blamed herself for something completely out of her control. What was worse was that she felt that she had disappointed her husband, and Robert couldn't bear the thought of her ever feeling inadequate.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door to the bedroom and quietly stepped in, clicking the door closed behind him. His eyes immediately settled on Cora. Her pale skin was barely distinguishable from the sheets she lay on and her eyes, normally such a brilliant blue, looked a diluted grey as they stared across the room, unfocused. A tray of untouched food was fixed across her lap, but what unsettled Robert the most were her hands. Much as they had this morning, her hands rested on her abdomen. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to cry. He had to be strong for her. He had to let her know that everything would be alright.

He made his way to her side of the bed, and sat in a chair that had been placed there. He reached for his wife's hand. She startled slightly at the contact, and her eyes only met his for a brief moment before she trained them on her lap.

"How are you feeling, darling?" Robert asked, softly, as he ran his thumb over Cora's knuckles.

"Empty," she answered, not looking at him. "And, incredibly guilty."

It was almost more than Robert could bear. He placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her face toward his own. "Cora, look at me," he pleaded. "My darling, this was not your fault. It was an accident; a horrible accident. And, I won't hear another word about you being a disappointment to me or about the entail. None of it is your fault. I don't want you to worry about it anymore, alright?" Here he stood from the chair and sat beside her on the bed. He placed a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. Looking into her eyes, he whispered, "Everything's going to be fine. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: From a lovely anon: "This isn't exactly what I had in mind." cobert

It had been quite some time since Robert and Cora had had the house all to themselves. With the rest of the family in London for the evening, and after the chaos of hosting a House Party, Cora was looking forward to some much-needed alone time with her husband. After a rather tedious dinner with the Dowager, she was relieved when Violet decided to make an early night of it. She and Robert walked Mama to the door, each kissing her goodnight before Carson helped her into the motor. Once the doors to the Abbey had closed behind them, Cora turned to Robert.

"I'm not quite ready to retire for the evening, are you?" she said as she laced her fingers through those of her husband. Robert noticed the hint of mischief in Cora's eyes. "What would you like to do?" he asked, thinking he already knew the answer. "Oh, nothing really," she answered, nonchalantly. "I thought we might relax for a bit in the library, if that's alright."

Robert's face fell at her words. He had rather hoped she had other plans. Doing his best to hide his disappointment, he walked hand in hand with his wife into the library. Pausing at the drinks cabinet, Cora poured her husband a Scotch, handing it to him with a smile. As Robert took a sip of his drink, Cora sashayed over to the settee, patting the place beside her as she sat down. Quickly downing his Scotch, Robert joined her. He extended his arm, allowing his wife to recline against him. Propriety was forever forcing them to sit on separate cushions or even on separate pieces of furniture, and it was wonderful to be able to set all of that aside, even if it was just for a short while. Robert placed soft kisses on top of Cora's head. She sighed contentedly and settled further into his embrace, bringing her feet up onto the settee and tucking them underneath her.

Robert ran his hand up and down Cora's arm, relishing the feel of her against him. It wasn't long, however, before his mind began to wander down other paths. "You know, my dearest one," he mused, "as wonderful as it is to be able to hold you in my arms in this manner, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh?" Cora questioned as she looked up at her husband, feigning innocence. "What exactly did you have in mind, my darling?"

Robert chuckled to himself at the twinkle in his wife's eyes. "Oh, nothing," he replied, nonchalantly.

Cora's laughter rang across the empty library. "You're a terrible liar, Robert," she teased. "Do you think after all these years, I don't know what you were hoping I wanted to do earlier?"

Robert looked her directly in the eye, squaring his jaw in mock defiance. "Well, it's your fault," he countered.

Cora pulled away from him, incredulous. "And, just how do you make that out?" she wondered.

Pulling her to himself once again, Robert whispered in her ear, "Because you're so breathtakingly beautiful." He felt her smile as she rested her head on his shoulder. But, just as he was about to tighten his arms around her she leapt to her feet and grabbed his hands, endeavoring to pull him up off of the settee. Robert sat rooted to his spot, momentarily confused until she said, "Well, what are we waiting for?" With that, he swept her up in his arms and hurried toward the staircase. Maybe it was a good thing when your wife could read your mind


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Another anonymous ask: could you do "everything is going to be fine" and cobert?

Cora remained in her husband's embrace for quite some time; for how long, she couldn't be certain. She felt him pull her closer, clinging to her as if his very life depended on it. She ran her hand consolingly up and down his back, hoping to convey some semblance of comfort to him.

She thought about what he had just told her. He had lost almost all of her money. She thought about the implications. They would eventually have to move out of the abbey and into a smaller house. Life would be very different. But, as she continued to turn the prospect over and over in her mind, she found that she really wasn't upset. The money she had brought to their marriage had not truly been hers for thirty years. The most important things in her life would remain the same. She still had her husband and their children, and that was truly all that mattered to her.

"I've failed you," she heard Robert's voice in her ear, barely audible through his continuing tears.

"What?" Cora questioned, incredulous. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "Why on earth would you say such a thing?"

"Thirty years ago, I promised to take care of you. Now, look at what I've done. I've lost almost all of your money, we'll have to leave this house-I've failed."

Cora shook her head as she continued to kneel in front of her husband. "Robert," she began, "darling, I can't pretend that I'm not shocked at the news you've just conveyed. Nor can I pretend to understand exactly why you invested such an enormous sum into one company. But, to say you've failed me? My love, you never could. You've given me a wonderful life. You forget, Robert. I'm used to change. I adjusted to living here; I can adjust to living somewhere else. It makes no difference to me whether we live here in the abbey, or in a cottage in the village. As long as I have you and the girls, I don't need anything else."

Robert stared at his wife for a long moment. "I know I said it before, but thank God for you. I was afraid you'd be furious with me when I told you."

Cora smiled sympathetically. "No. I could never be furious with you for doing something you thought would help our family. I love you, Robert. And, everything's going to be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is a prompt from drwhofan777 on tumblr. Cobert: "Wait right there! Don't move!"

Robert fidgeted slightly in his chair as he waited for his wife's maid to finish dressing her for dinner. It was their first wedding anniversary; an entire year had passed since they had become husband and wife. What had begun as an awkward business contract had blossomed into a deep and abiding love. Robert could hardly believe his good fortune. This beautiful creature sitting before him was his wife.

He laughed inwardly as he thought about their hurried courtship. He remembered the first time he had spotted her across the crowded Mayfair ballroom. He thought of their first dance-a waltz-and the way she had fit perfectly into his arms. He thought of all the times he had stumbled over his words, her beauty always taking his breath away and making him forget himself for a moment. He was ashamed to admit that her impressive dowry had been his original reason for pursuing her; however, from the beginning he had always known that there was something different about Cora. She was unlike any other young woman he had come across. He had been blind to the fact that what he was feeling was love and not mere infatuation. Thankfully, he had come to his senses and confessed his true feelings only a few months before. Seeing her face light up at his words had been one of the happiest moments of his life.

Now, as he watched her lady's maid place the final pins in her intricate coiffure, his heart began to swell in his chest as Cora turned to him, a brilliant smile lighting up her features. "Are you ready to go down to dinner, darling?" she asked.

"You look so beautiful," he breathed, unable to formulate any other thought.

"Thank you, Robert," she smiled, her cheeks turning pink at his unguarded compliment. Looking at her maid, she smiled her thanks. "That'll be all, thank you." The maid curtseyed and left the room, leaving the couple alone. Cora stood from her vanity, prompting her husband to stand as well. She started for the door, but stopped to look over her shoulder when she didn't hear her husband's footsteps.

"Darling? Aren't you coming?"

"I-uh," he stammered. "That is-wait right there! Don't move!" Before Cora could respond, Robert turned on his heel and headed into his dressing room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Cora's brow furrowed in confusion. "What on earth…?" she muttered.

Robert reappeared a few moments later carrying a brightly wrapped package. Presenting it to his wife, his face took on a slightly sheepish appearance. "I had this made for you. I had wanted to wait until later this evening to give it to you, but I found that I just couldn't wait any longer."

Cora took the proffered gift, turning it over in her hands. "Oh, Robert," she said, a smile once again gracing her lips. "You sweet man." With that, she delicately removed the paper to reveal a beautifully hand-carved mahogany music box. "Oh, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"Open it," Robert insisted, almost jumping out of his skin in anticipation.

Cora carefully lifted the lid, her eyes brimming with tears when the familiar song began to play. She looked up at her husband. "The Sleeping Beauty waltz," she whispered.

Robert nodded. "The first song we ever danced to," he said in reply. "Do you like it?"

Cora could only nod, unable to speak around the lump that had formed in her throat. She placed the music box on top of the bureau and reached for her husband's hands. Robert took them in his and kissed them both at once before putting one arm around her waist. As the music box continued to play the two of them danced, not caring that Mama was undoubtedly pacing the Drawing Room and grumbling about their tardiness.

"I love you, Cora," Robert whispered in her ear. "Happy Anniversary."

A/N: The Sleeping Beauty waltz was composed in 1888, the year that Robert and Cora met. It's my very favorite waltz, and I thought it was an appropriate choice for their first dance.


	6. Chapter 6

A stunned Robert stood in the middle of the nursery holding eighteen-month-old Mary at arms-length, a look of mortification painted across his face.

"You want me to do _what_?" he cried, his voice rising an octave at the absurdity of his wife's request.

Cora rolled her eyes in annoyance, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "Change her diaper, Robert. I'm trying to feed Edith."

It had been a trying couple of days in the Crawley household. The nanny had quit without notice two days prior, giving no reason for her departure- although everyone suspected that it was due to Edith's colic. The newborn had been crying almost non-stop since her arrival three weeks earlier, and it was wearing on everyone's already frayed nerves. Nothing seemed to soothe the tiny girl. And though Robert and Cora were more involved in their children's lives than most people of their station, they were completely unprepared for taking care of their two daughters without any assistance whatsoever.

Cora looked down at a wailing Edith as she cradled her in her arms, trying desperately to get the child to nurse. "Please, my little darling. Take pity on your poor Mama." As with Mary, Cora had starkly refused to hire a wet nurse. She wanted to be the one to feed her children, not some stranger. It had taken some convincing when Mary had been born, but she had finally gotten her way. But, Mary had been much more willing to nurse than Edith. "Robert, please," she pleaded, looking up at her husband. "It's not that difficult, and it won't kill you."

Robert took in the slightly desperate look on his wife's face before turning his attention back to Mary. _This should be interesting_, he thought to himself before walking with her over to the changing table. Laying her upon it, he noticed his eldest daughter eying him skeptically. "You don't think I can do it, either, do you?" he questioned the toddler. "Well, that makes two of us." He looked around for a moment before locating a clean diaper. Taking a deep breath, he removed the diaper cover and the diaper, placing the latter in a pail beside the changing table. It took him several minutes to figure out how to fold the clean diaper correctly, but he was determined to complete this task without having to ask his wife for help.

Cora looked on at the scene from the rocking chair beside the window. Having finally gotten Edith to begin nursing, she now watched her husband as he struggled to put the clean diaper on their eldest child. A smiled tugged at the corners of her mouth and she swallowed the urge to laugh at his look of intense concentration.

Finally, Robert secured the safety pin in place with a triumphant "Aha!" He scooped Mary up off of the table with a kiss to her cheek. He then turned to his wife, his face sporting a large grin. "I did it!"

Cora finally gave into her laughter. "Well done, my darling," she congratulated him. She knew well enough that it was indeed an accomplishment for her husband to be able to perform such a task. "We'll have to permanently assign you to the task of diaper-changing."

Robert gave his wife a half smile before placing Mary on the floor with her toys. He placed kisses to Edith's cheek and Cora's forehead before heading for the door, muttering something about needed to catch up on some correspondence. He would make sure that an advertisement for a new nanny was placed that very afternoon.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am so enjoying doing these prompts, and feel very humbled that people enjoy my writing enough to request them. This one is from my darling modernamericangirl: Cobert and "thanks for the memories".

Cora looked up from her spot in the middle of the bed as the door clicked open. She smiled as she watched her husband enter the room and close the door behind him.

"Cora? What in the world is all this?" Robert questioned as he looked at her.

"I was looking around the attic for one of the girls' old toys to give to Sybbie when I came across this box. It's just some things I've saved over the years."

Crossing the short distance to the bed, Robert sat down and peeked inside. His eyes immediately fell upon a worn old book. Gingerly picking it up he turned it over in his hands, wondering exactly why she had kept this particular item.

"'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?'" he questioned, glancing up at his wife. "You hated this book."

Laughing softly, Cora took the book from him. "I didn't exactly hate it, though I admit it's not one of my favorites. I didn't keep it for the book itself; I kept something inside of it." Opening the volume to a page she apparently knew by heart, she carefully extracted a folded piece of tissue paper. She slowly unfolded it to reveal a dried rose.

"What is that?" Robert asked, his expression one of genuine curiosity.

"It's a flower from the bouquet you brought the first time you came to call on me," Cora smiled tenderly at her husband.

Robert felt a lump begin to form in his throat. "But…that flower is thirty-six years old. You've kept it all this time?"

"Of course I did, my darling," Cora answered. "It's a very special memory."

Robert found himself unable to answer, so instead he continued to rummage through Cora's memory box. Laughing heartily, he pulled out a doll with golden blonde hair. "Edith took this doll everywhere," he said fondly. "She was never without it."

Cora smiled. "I remember. She even insisted that she be allowed to sit at the dinner table, much to your mother's chagrin. I had an almost impossible time getting her to leave the doll in the nursery when we had dinner parties."

"Perhaps we over-indulged our girls a bit, but I don't regret a moment of it. Do you?"

"Not at all," Cora replied. "I think children should be spoiled to a certain extent. It lets them know that they're loved."

"I agree," Robert said, replacing the doll and pulling out another item. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked at the paper, a drawing done by a seven-year-old Sybil. He looked at it for a long moment. There were five people in the drawing, barely more than stick figures. Each person was labeled, and at the bottom were the words 'My Family'.

"What do you have there?" Cora inquired, holding her hand out. Wordlessly, Robert handed her the drawing. As she realized what it was, Cora's other hand covered her mouth as tears coursed their way down her cheeks. "I had almost forgotten this picture," she whispered. "Oh, my darling little Sybil."

The two sat in silence for a long while, both reliving memories of their darling baby girl. It was Cora who finally broke the silence. "Thank you, Robert," she says softly.

Robert looked at her, confused. "For what, my love?"

"For giving me a lifetime of wonderful memories. For being the love of my life, and the father of my children."

Robert smiled at his wife, taking her hands in his own. "And thank you; my dearest, darling wife. For everything you've done for me and for our family over the years. Not least of all for putting up with a stubborn husband."

Cora shook her head with a smile. "You can have an equally stubborn wife," she joked. "But, truly. Thank you, darling. And may we still have many more wonderful memories to come."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Tumblr prompt from randomabiling: "You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now."

Robert watched as his wife ran from the Drawing Room, her hand over her mouth in a feeble attempt to quell the emotional turmoil that erupted from within her. He turned on his heel to face his mother, his eyes boring holes into hers. His rage was palpable, and his voice wavered with the effort of controlling his temper.

"How dare you?" he seethed, his voice low and warning. "How dare you speak to my wife in that manner?"

"I was only pointing out the obvious, Robert," Violet sniffed. "You've been married for a year now, and she has yet to have a child. There's obviously something wrong with her."

This was the final straw. "There is _NOTHING_ wrong with Cora," he bellowed, his patience having reached its limit. "Absolutely nothing! We will have a child when it is meant for it to happen. I'll not hear another word on the subject. If you ever say anything else to her about this I'll never speak to you again, Mama."

Robert marched out of the room before his mother had the opportunity to counter him. He took the stairs two at a time, eager to get to Cora and reassure her that he did not share his mother's concerns. He knew that the subject of children was a sore one with his wife. She was desperate to become a mother; to give Robert an heir. Thus far nature had not been on their side, but Robert was not worried in the least. It would happen eventually.

He knocked softly on the door to the bedroom. Receiving no answer, he quietly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Stepping into the room, the sight which met his eyes caused his stomach to clench and his throat to constrict. Cora lay on her side, facing away from him. Her entire body shook as she sobbed, the sounds muffled as she burrowed her face into her pillow. He walked quietly to her side of the bed and knelt in front of her. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face as he spoke.

"Cora? My darling, please don't let what Mama said get to you. We'll have children one day."

Cora lifted her head to face him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "She had no right to speak to me that way," she said, her tone tinged with irritation and anger. "It's none of her business! I _hate_ that she has the maids immediately run to her when they change the sheets and see that I have gotten my monthly. This is my house, too, you know. And, I have right to a little bit of privacy. I don't need to be reminded of my shortcomings every hour of the day."

Robert's brow creased in confusion. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Cora rolled her eyes. "Please, Robert. Don't pretend as if you don't hear the way your mother criticizes everything about me. My accent, my frocks, my apparent inability to have children…" Cora stopped as tears once again welled in her eyes, and she averted her gaze.

Robert rose from where he knelt before her and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close to him. Cora returned the embrace and buried her face in her husband's neck, her tears soaking through the collar of his evening shirt. He ran his hand soothingly up and down her arm, every now and again making soft shushing sounds. When it seemed as though she had calmed down a bit, he leaned his head against hers and placed a loving kiss to her forhead.

"Don't worry about what anyone else says or thinks, my love," he whispered in her ear. "The most important thing is that we love each other. The rest will come in time." He pulled her tighter against him as he continued, "You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now."


	9. Chapter 9

Cora gazed out of the window of the carriage as it made its way through the streets of London toward the house she and her mother had rented for the summer. A smile wreathed her mouth as she thought of the man she had met that night.

_She had noticed him from across the crowded Mayfair ballroom. She had been instantly drawn to him-his broad shoulders, his handsome smile and his warm blue eyes. She had watched, wide-eyed, as he made his way across the ballroom. Realizing that he was coming toward her, she flashed him her best smile before bashfully lowering her eyes._

_ "Good evening," he spoke, addressing both Cora and her mother with a slight bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Robert Crawley, Viscount Downton."_

_ "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Downton," Martha responded, eyeing the young man before her. "I am Martha Levinson and this is my daughter, Cora."_

_ "It's a delight to meet you both. Miss Levinson," he turned to Cora, "will you do me the great of honor of dancing this next waltz with me?"_

_ Cora smiled in reply as she took his outstretched hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. A shiver ran down her spine as Robert placed his hand on her back. She could focus on nothing but him as they twirled around the dance floor to the 'Sleeping Beauty' waltz, a new tune that had only recently been composed. She loved the way she seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. _

_ When the waltz ended, Robert escorted her back to where her mother stood. "You're a lovely dance partner, Miss Levinson," he stated, a warm smile lighting his features._

_ "Thank you, Lord Downton," she answered, returning his smile._

_ "Might I call on you tomorrow?" he asked, looking to her mother for permission._

_ Cora looked at her mother, silently pleading with her to grant her permission. "Of course," Martha said, taking note of the look in her daughter's eyes. "We would be delighted if you would join us for tea."_

_ "I look forward to it," Robert replied before bowing once more and taking his leave. Cora could not take her eyes off of him as he made his way through the crowd to the other side of the room._

"Cora?"

"Hmmm?" she hummed, now becoming vaguely aware of her mother's presence in the carriage.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What has you so preoccupied, my dear?"

"Nothing," Cora answered, praying that her mother would not notice the blush that surely stained her cheeks.

"I know you better than that, Cora," Martha said flatly. "What are you thinking?"

Cora smiled widely as her eyes met those of her mother. "I was just thinking about how special the ball was this evening?"

"Special?" Martha questioned, clearly puzzled. "Cora we've been to a dozen balls since we arrived. What made tonight so special?"

"Because tonight, I met the man that I'm going to marry."


	10. Chapter 10

_After the angst of Series 5, I'm relishing the opportunity to write some Cobert fluff! Thank you, dearest friend, for the request! I hope it lives up to your expectations! I've been having Granny Cora and Grandpapa Robert (Donk) feels ever since that glorious little snippet of them playing a laughing with Sybbie in Episode 3. So, when I saw this prompt I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I hope you enjoy it!_

Cora looked up from her book as a soft knock sounded at her bedroom door. "Come in," she called, expecting to see her husband or lady's maid. She smiled brightly as Sybbie peeked her head around the door.

"Morning, Granny," Sybbie said shyly.

"Good morning, my darling," Cora replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Donk and Daddy have gone out, and I wanted to play. Will you play with me, Granny?"

"Of course, I will! Shall we go back to your nursery and play with some of your dolls?"

Sybbie looked around bashfully, almost as if she were slightly afraid to voice her next thought. "I want to play dress up."

Cora's gave her granddaughter a mischievous smile as she left her chair to ring for Baxter. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Sybbie. I'll have Baxter bring up some of my dresses and jewelry."

Sybbie's eyes grew wide as her grandmother came over and picked her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek before placing her atop the bed. "You'll let me wear one of your pretty dresses, Granny?"

"Of course," Cora smiled. "We have to make you look like a proper young lady."

Sybbie giggled and clapped her hands excitedly. She didn't often get to see the adults when they were dressed for dinner. When she did, she always looked at her Granny with a sense of wonder at the beautiful dresses she wore. The prospect of getting to wear one was very exciting.

Baxter arrived within a few minutes, and was asked to bring up two of Cora's dinner dresses along with her jewelry, hair pins and tiaras. Sybbie grew more excited by the minute, watching as Baxter returned with the items Cora had asked for. As the lady's maid was laying out the clothes and jewels, Sybbie turned expectantly to her grandmother. "Granny, can I fix your hair?"

Cora glanced at Baxter. "Love, Miss Baxter already fixed Granny's hair for the day. I'd hate for all of her hard work to be undone."

"Oh, don't worry about that, m'lady. I can have it fixed again before luncheon. Who knows? I believe Miss Sybbie may do a better job," Baxter intoned, winking at the little girl.

"Very well, then," Cora laughed as she began removing the pins from her hair. "Thank you, Baxter."

Cora helped Sybbie into one of the dresses, laughing with delight at the look of elation on the little girl's face. She placed one of her smaller tiaras on her head, and a delicate necklace around her neck. When Sybbie turned to the cheval mirror to take in her reflection, Cora's eyes filled with happy tears as the child squealed in delight. She was so like her mother. Cora could remember her own Sybil's penchant for new frocks. She thought of how proud Sybil would be of her daughter. "You look beautiful, my darling," Cora breathed. "I'm going to slip into the washroom and put on my own dress. But, I'll need your help to fasten it."

Once Cora was dressed she sat in the floor, allowing Sybbie to brush out her hair. Over the next several minutes, Sybbie took great care with her grandmother's hair. Cora was sure that almost every hair pin-decorative or otherwise-she had ever owned was in her hair. But she couldn't bring herself to mind. She was having far too much fun spending time with her granddaughter. She and Sybbie were so absorbed in their game that neither had noticed Robert standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat.

"Donk!" Sybbie cried gleefully. She did her best to run to him, but was slightly impeded by the material of her grandmother's dress. Robert caught her just as she tumbled forward.

"Don't the two of you look beautiful? What's the occasion?"

"Sybbie wanted to dress up. Somehow, she convinced me to let her fix my hair."

"Doesn't Granny look pretty, Donk?" Sybbie grinned, admiring her handiwork.

"Always," Robert agreed, smiling adoringly at his wife. "Cora, luncheon will be served in an hour or so. Sybbie? Would you and George like to join us today?"

"Can we?" Sybbie gasped, overjoyed at the prospect of getting to eat in the big dining room.

"Of course you may," Robert smiled. "I'll let Granny change you out of this dress, and then you can go to the nursery to tell George and Nanny. We'll come and get the both of you before we go down."

Sybbie left the room soon afterward, kissing the cheeks of both of her grandparents before bounding into the hallway and heading for the nursery. Closing the door behind her, Robert turned to his wife. The pair burst into laughter as Cora picked herself up out of the floor and walked to her vanity. "You must think me very foolish, sitting in the floor like that and letting Sybbie do my hair."

"Nonsense," Robert assured, coming up behind her and helping remove the myriad of pins from her hair. "I think you are adorable."

Cora looked caught his eye in the mirror, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Do you now?" she teased.

"Hmm," Robert hummed. "I always have. Adorable, beautiful, alluring, enchanting…"

Cora laughed and shook her head. "That'll be enough of that, Lord Grantham. You know flattery will get you everywhere. And, we can't be late for luncheon. The children would be most upset." With that, she rose from her chair and made her way to the bell to ring for Baxter. After walking back across the room, she wrapped her arms around Robert's waist and kissed his cheek before whispering, "But, there's always this afternoon."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Prompt given by randomabiling: Cobert and #9 (Wake Me Up). I love imagining Robert and Cora when their girls were little. So, fluff abounds in this chapter.

Cora sat up slowly at hearing the baby's cries, her body still healing from the arduous labor three weeks before. Lady Sybil Cora Crawley's birth had been a bit more difficult than the previous two, and Dr. Clarkson had insisted that she take it easy for several weeks. But, Sybil seemed to need her Mama almost constantly. A bassinet had been moved into Cora and Robert's bedroom so that Cora did not have to walk the distance to the nursery more than was necessary.

She stood and walked to the end of the bed-albeit slowly-and peeked inside of the bassinet. Normally, the sight of her mother would soothe little Sybil, but not tonight. The volume of her cries only increased. Cora reached in and scooped her up, placing her gently on her shoulder after kissing both of her soft cheeks. "Shh, my darling," she whispered. "Things can't be as bad as all that."

She walked over to the rocking chair that had been brought in from the nursery and sat down. She lifted Sybil from her shoulder and placed her in the crook of her arm, and undid the buttons on the bodice of her night gown. She peeked over at Robert, who was still sound asleep. Bringing the baby to her breast to nurse, she quickly learned that it wasn't hunger that fueled her daughter's cries. Cora checked her diaper, thinking perhaps that it needed to be changed. Nothing. Looking thoughtfully at her youngest child, she could think of only one thing that might calm her.

Although each of her girls were very different from their sisters, they did have some things in common. All of them liked to be carried around the house as infants. Something about the motion made by walking tended to lull them back to sleep more effectively than even rocking could. With this in mind, Cora stood and placed Sybil back in the bassinet in order to retrieve her dressing gown and slippers. The baby's cries grew louder once more at the loss of contact. Thankfully, it took Cora mere seconds to complete this task and she was able to pick Sybil up once more before the infant's wails woke Robert. Cradling her in her arms, Cora made her way into the dimly lit hallway and closed the door behind her.

Robert woke only a handful of minutes later, his stomach lurching at the realization that his wife was not sleeping beside him. Now fully alert he stood and walked the few steps to the bassinet, becoming even more alarmed when he found it empty. He had been even more attentive toward Cora these last three weeks, and worried about her being up and about too much. Donning his own robe and slippers, he walked into the hallway. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her heading toward him, as yet unaware of his presence. She walked slowly, bouncing Sybil gently as she spoke softly to her telling her secrets meant only for the two of them. She look up as she approached him, her brilliant smile illuminating her entire face.

"Robert," she smiled. "What are you doing up?"

"I don't know, actually. But, I was worried when I opened my eyes and you weren't there. I thought I told you to wake me up when Sybil is fussing. You shouldn't have to be the only one to lose sleep, darling."

"I know you did, my love," she replied, reaching up to brush her fingers across his cheek. "But, you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to disturb you."

"Is she asleep?"

Cora chuckled softly. "No, but at least she's quiet; a vast improvement from earlier. She has obviously inherited her Papa's stubbornness," she grinned, almost laughing aloud as her husband feigned a look of shock.

"Let me take her for a moment," Robert offered, holding out his arms as Cora passed the baby to him. "You should go back to bed, my dearest."

"If it's alright with you, I should like to continue walking with you and Sybil. After all, before we know it she'll be grown up. Let's cherish these moments while we can."

As Cora placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, Robert kissed her on the forehead. It would indeed pass all too quickly. As he looked down at his baby daughter, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for the life that he and Cora had been blessed with. He only hoped that they would continue to cherish these times; times when it was just the two of them and their family.


	12. Chapter 12

Cora wandered the halls of the abbey looking for her husband. It was almost time for the dressing gong. His mother was to dine with them this evening, and the Dowager was not one to tolerate tardiness. She had not seen him since tea, which was most unusual because they normally went for a short walk before getting ready for dinner. He had not been in the dressing room, and he hadn't taken Isis out because Cora had found her asleep in front of the fireplace in the library.

She continued to walk the bedroom gallery and was just about to pass by what had been Sybil's bedroom when a muffled noise made her stop. Noticing that the door stood slightly ajar, she pushed it further open and stepped in. She had not set foot in this room since that awful night a few months before, memories both happy and sad immediately assaulting her. She turned her head toward the muffled sound and saw Robert perched on the side of the bed with his head in his hands, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed. The sight of him so distressed clenched Cora's heart. Hurrying to where he sat, she knelt before him and placed her hands on his knees.

"Oh, my darling," she whispered. "What's going on?"

She watched as Robert slowly lifted his head from his hands, his bloodshot eyes finally falling upon her. "I feel as if I'm living in a nightmare, Cora," he choked, his breathing still uneven from crying. "I came up here to show Sybil something that I had read in the newspaper this morning. I knew it would make her laugh. I keep forgetting she's not here." Tears once again flowed down his face as he whispered, "If this is some horrible dream, please wake me up."


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you, dear anon, for the request! I doubt that you intended for this prompt to be one of angst, but that's where my brain took me. I'm sorry for it being so late. I'm desperately trying to get caught up on my prompts. Set after the events of Series 5, Episode 5._

"Good morning, darling," Cora greeted her husband as she walked into the library.

"'Morning," Robert replied flatly, not bothering to look up from his desk.

"I had hoped you would come and talk with me while I had my breakfast."

"Why?" Robert questioned, finally tearing his eyes away from his work to peer up at his wife.

His question and tone took Cora buy surprise, a fact that was written plainly in her expression. "Well," she stammered, "because you always do. I enjoy our early morning talks."

"I didn't want to bother you," Robert stated, returning his attention to his work.

"Bother me? How could you ever bother me?"

Robert remained silent.

Cora chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before trying again. "You look very handsome this morning. I've always liked that suit on you."

"Hmm," Robert hummed noncommittally. "I suppose you would, since you're the one who bought it for me."

"It fits you nicely," she continued, approaching Robert's chair and running her hand across his shoulders. She flinched as he shrugged in an effort to remove her hand.

"What are you trying to do, Cora?" Robert suddenly turned, his eyes narrowed and his tone accusatory.

"I'm trying to flirt with you, alright?" she spat back, blinking rapidly in an effort to keep the tears that were now welled in her eyes from falling. "I'm trying to get you to look at me; to talk to me. I'm trying to figure out what has happened between the two of us."

"I don't have time to discuss this with you, Cora; I'm busy." Robert's tone left no room for argument.

"Very well," Cora acquiesced, sadly. She walked to one of the bookshelves, retrieving a volume before making her way to her sitting room. She usually read in the library, but she knew she would be unable to concentrate with Robert sitting at his desk and deliberately ignoring her presence. Her heart clenched in her chest as she thought of the awkwardness that now existed between herself and her husband. It was as if she were reliving the first year of her marriage. The only difference was that at least then Robert had been civil. He had enjoyed her company and endeavored to make her feel comfortable. Now, he could barely look at her.

She sank into the first chair she came to, abandoning her book on the table next to her and instead staring intently into the fire that smoldered in the fireplace. Where had things gone wrong? He had to know that Mr. Bricker had not been invited into her room. It had been more than two weeks since Robert had returned home to find that man trying to proposition his wife. Cora had spent the entirety of that time trying to convince him that nothing had happened. He believed her, surely. Or, did he? Cora wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.


	14. Chapter 14

Prompt from american-in-london: Cobert and "Counting Stars"

Robert walked quickly through the doors and out onto the veranda of Lord and Lady Flintshire's London house. He found is wife standing in the far corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in an attempt to keep warm. It was Cora's first visit to Susan and Shrimpie's home. She had only met them once before at her wedding. She was eager to get to know the members of her new husband's family, and had happily accepted their invitation to the house party. Robert remembered how excited she had been upon their arrival. He suspected that over the course of the evening, however, things had changed. The men had barely come through to the Drawing Room when he saw his wife excuse herself from the conversation with Susan and group of her friends and walk through the French doors that lead outside.

Making his way over to her, he removed his jacket and wrapped it around Cora's shoulders. She flinched slightly, startled by his sudden presence behind her. She turned around and gave him a small smile before pulling the jacket tighter around her, muttering a soft "thank you."

"You left rather suddenly, my dear," Robert observed. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Cora shook her head. "Nothing that matters anyway." She turned once more to look out over the garden.

"That wasn't exactly a reassuring answer, dearest," he answered softly. His heart constricted as he watched tears gather on Cora's lashes.

"I should be used to it by now, I suppose," she said, her voice shaky with the effort of controlling her emotions. "Your cousin, Susan, isn't exactly friendly."

Robert shook his head with a slight chuckle. "You can say that again. She wouldn't win a personality contest, that's for sure."

Cora smiled slightly at this. "But, her friends are absolutely horrid. One commented that you must have been rather desperate and Downton in even worse shape to have to resort to marrying an American. Right in front of me, Robert! She acted as if I weren't even in the room, much less standing right next to her. I know that I'm viewed as a stain upon the Crawley name, but…"

"Stop right there," he interjected. He reached up to wipe away the tears that were now coursing their way freely down Cora's cheeks. "I won't hear any more of that nonsense. You are _not _a stain on the family name. You are my wife-my beautiful, sweet, wonderful wife. It's true that part of my original reason for pursuing you was your dowry. That is not news to you. But, even before I knew the depth of my true feelings for you, there was so much more to our relationship and to our marriage. I hope you know that."

"I do know that," Cora replied, looking up into her husband's eyes. "I just don't ever want to be a source of embarrassment for you. I want to make you proud, Robert."

"You've never made me anything but proud, Cora." Noticing that it was a rare starry night in London that evening, he turned Cora gently and pointed up to the sky. "You see that star right above us, Cora? The brightest one?"

"Yes," she answered. "The North Star."

"That's right, my darling," he walked around to face her. "Sailors and explorers for thousands of years have used that star to find their way." Taking her hands in his, he continued, "Think of me as your north star, my love. You only ever have to look to me to find your way. I'm constant; I'm always going to be here."


	15. Chapter 15

_I was so excited to see this prompt! My grandparent feels for Cora and Robert have been off the charts this series. I absolutely love it! Since my last drabble talked about Sybbie and Cora, I asked drwhofan777's permission to use Marigold in this one. The idea came to me after watching episode 5.08. I hope you enjoy! And, I apologize for this being so dreadfully late!_

It was a rare treat for Cora to be able to spend the afternoon with her grandchildren. Tom and Mary-along with Robert-were out inspecting the new cottages that were being built. Edith, after much persuasion, had gone to London to check in on the publishing company. She was always nervous to leave Marigold, even though she knew that she would be well taken care of. It made Cora happier than she could explain to see how much Edith loved her daughter. It reminded her of when her own daughters were small. She had gone against what was considered normal when it came to raising her children. They had nannies and governesses, of course. But, Cora had discovered early on that 'an hour every day after tea', as her mother-in-law had always phrased it, was just not enough. She was delighted to see that Edith and even Mary seemed eager to spend extra time with their children.

Not long after the children had been brought into the library, Cora found herself sitting on her knees on the floor, endeavoring to teach Sybbie and George the proper way to play jacks. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed little Marigold sitting close to the settee, her beloved teddy bear in her lap. She eyed the others cautiously, as if she weren't entirely sure of exactly what she should be doing. Noticing her trepidation, Cora looked at her two eldest grandchildren. "Do you think the two of you will be alright playing on your own for a bit?" In answer to her question, the pair continued playing as if they didn't realize that their grandmother was still in the room. Shaking her head with a smile, she raised herself onto the settee and held her arms out to Marigold. "Come here, darling," she encouraged, taking note of her granddaughter's wary expression. "It's alright, love. Granny doesn't bite."

The little girl stood, ambled over to where her grandmother sat and allowed herself to be picked up. As Cora settled the little girl on her lap, she noticed that Marigold eyed her with a sense of genuine curiosity. The child had only been in the Downton nursery for a handful of months, and was still getting used to all of the new people in her life. Cora smiled lovingly at her youngest grandchild. "What do you have there?" she asked.

Marigold looked at her most prized possession for a moment before holding it up to Cora. "Bear," she answered quietly. She then hugged it to her chest, causing her grandmother to laugh lightly.

"You love your bear don't you, darling?"

The little girl grinned and nodded, clearly beginning to relax as her Granny continued to talk to her. She reached out and placed her hand on Cora's pearl necklace, running her fingers along the beads. "Pretty," she breathed.

Cora smiled. "Thank you. They were a gift from your Grandpapa," she replied.

"Donk?" Marigold questioned, looking around and over Cora's shoulder for any sign of her grandfather.

Cora pressed her lips together in an effort to suppress her laughter. Robert was not going to be happy when he learned that Marigold had picked up on Sybbie's chosen nickname. Cora herself found the nickname to be utterly adorable, especially when one considered that it had come about because of a game Robert had played with their oldest grandchild. Her heart would swell each time she saw her husband with one of the children. He had been the same with their own girls. He had maintained an air of dignity around his parents, of course, but nothing had given him more pleasure than when he was able to play with or read to one of his daughters.

The children continued playing their game until Nanny came to collect them. Cora had completely forgotten the time and realized that the rest of the family would be home any minute. Sybbie and George cleaned up the jacks and handed them to Nanny before turning to give their grandmother a kiss on the cheek. She kissed each of them in turn, telling them how much she loved them. Marigold slid from her lap; however, before she reached for the nanny's hand, she turned back to Cora. "Can I kiss you, too?" she asked.

Cora's eyes welled with tears at the girl's sweet words and shy demeanor. _She is so like her mother_, Cora thought to herself. "Of course you can, my darling," she answered. Marigold walked over and stood on her tiptoes, placing one tiny hand on Cora's face as she kissed her cheek. "Love you, Granny," she whispered as she took the Nanny's hand. Cora was too overcome with emotion to answer with anything other than a loving smile. Her youngest grandchild seemed to understand, for her own smile mirrored that of her grandmother as she was lead from the library.


	16. Chapter 16

From drwhofan777: Argument and Cora with one of her girls. This takes place during Series 1, Episode 2

Cora knocked softly on the door of her eldest daughter's bedroom. As she pushed the door open, she observed as Anna finished loosening Mary's hair for the evening.

"Thank you, Anna. I'll take over from here," she intoned before either her daughter or the maid had even acknowledged her presence.

Looking slightly confused, Anna merely curtsied and answered, "Yes, your ladyship. Goodnight."

As Anna exited the room and closed the door, Cora picked up the hair brush and began running it through Mary's hair. "I haven't done this since you were a little girl," she mused, a wave of nostalgia washing over her.

Mary looked at her mother's reflection in the mirror of her vanity, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "I'm sure there's something you wanted to speak with me about, Mama. Why not just get it over with?"

Cora rolled her eyes. "Are you so grown up that you cannot allow your mother to take care of you? Forgive me, but sometimes I miss the days when you and your sisters were still little. You'll understand when you have children of your own."

"Hmm," Mary hummed noncommittally.

Cora continued to brush out her daughter's hair, all the while contemplating how best to bring up Mary's behavior at dinner. "Mary…"

Mary heaved an exasperated sigh. "Here it comes."

Cora sat the brush down upon Mary's vanity table a bit harder than was strictly necessary. Catching her daughter's eyes in the mirror, she narrowed her gaze. "Mary Josephine, you may be twenty-one-years-old, but I am still your mother. I will not tolerate being spoken to in that manner. Is that understood?"

Mary lowered her eyes. "Yes, Mama."

Cora took a deep breath before continuing. "I only want to talk about what happened at dinner this evening. Telling the story of Andromeda was a bit inappropriate, don't you agree?"

"No," Mary stated firmly. "I think it was most appropriate. Who better to compare myself to?"

Cora's brows knitted together in confusion. "What do mean?"

Now it was Mary's turn to roll her eyes. "Honestly, Mama. How can you even ask that question? Isn't that what Papa is doing? Sacrificing me on the altar of his duty to Downton? It matters not that I'm his eldest child. I'm to be passed over for this virtual stranger."

"Mary, it's not as simple as you seem to believe, my dear. When your father and I got married, your grandfather forced me to sign documents stating that every penny of my fortune was to be tied to this estate and that it-along with the estate and your father's title-could only be passed to the closest male heir."

"And you and Papa only had daughters," Mary finished her mother's thought.

Cora took one of Mary's hands in her own. "That's right, my darling; three beautiful daughters. Mary, your father and I both love you very much. I hope you know that."

Mary nodded. "I do. And, I love you both. Very much."

Cora smiled at this. This sentiment was not often spoken by her eldest, and she relished it each time she heard it. "If it were up to me, it should all be yours. But, it's not. Your father's lawyer isn't certain that the entail can be broken. Your Granny and I are willing to do all that we can to break it. But, it may not be possible. I just don't want you to ever think that your Papa not trying to do anything about the entail means that he doesn't love you."

"He just loves the estate more."

"Mary! You know that isn't true. I will freely admit, I don't understand why your father isn't at least willing to try. I'm hoping we can bring him round. But, if we can't, you should at least consider the possibility of marrying Matthew."

Mary jerked her hand away from her mother. "That's what this whole speech was about, wasn't it? To try to convince me to marry Matthew Crawley. I'm sorry, Mama. I'd never marry any man that I was told to, and most certainly not one who knows nothing about our way of life."

Cora shook her head as she stood to her feet. "There's no reasoning with you when you're like this. But, I will say this. I will not have you acting again the way you did tonight. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Mary answered tersely. "I should hate to embarrass you, Mother."

Cora only shook her head and made her way to the door. Why had she thought that bringing up daughters was going to be like _Little Women_?


	17. Chapter 17

Requested by the wonderful ohtobealady: "Counting Stars" and Cobert

_So, this is a prompt that has been sitting in my Ask Box for ages. I've been suffering from a bit of writer's block. I couldn't seem to keep my thoughts straight. But this came to me after last night's episode. Thank you for your infinite patience. I do hope it was worth the wait._

Cora stood with her head in her hands and listened as the door to her husband's dressing room slammed shut. Tears streamed down her face as the scenes of the evening replayed themselves in her mind. Her heart was still pounding painfully in her chest at the thought that a man other than her husband had been in her bedroom. When had she given him the idea that she wanted him in her room; that she wanted him in any other way other than as a friend?

She thought back to their first interaction all those weeks ago. How had she overlooked the way her looked at her as he discussed the 'beautiful things' he had witnessed during his trip to Alexandria? She caught on a bit more that night in London. Yes, she had thoroughly enjoyed their trip to the National Gallery and had had a wonderful time at dinner that evening discussing the things they had seen. She had opened up to him afterwards about her youth and what had brought her to England. No one since Robert had ever been interested in her background.

Robert.

He had been so angry that night when she arrived back at Rosamund's. She knew he was disappointed, and she had been as well. It was so very sweet of him to want to surprise her by taking her out for dinner and dancing. She had wanted so desperately for him to come with her in the first place. But he had knocked the wind out of her with his insinuation that Mr. Bricker couldn't possibly be interested in her opinions. That comment had cut straight to her heart. Did her husband of thirty-four years really think so little of her?

She remembered Mr. Bricker's declaration to her during his last visit. He thought she was beautiful. She had blushed and quietly admonished him. In truth, it had made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Despite that fact that things between she and her husband had been a bit rocky of late, she still loved him desperately. It wasn't right for this man to be standing in front of her and telling her of her beauty. It was Robert who should be doing that.

Cora walked to the bay window and sat down, her eyes immediately fastening on the door to Robert's dressing room. More acutely than ever she felt the distance between them, and it wasn't a mere wooden door that separated them. What had gone wrong? Where had they taken a wrong turn and gone in opposite directions?

She turned her to the window, and gazed up at the night sky. In spite of the storm that was raging on the inside, the sky was a beautiful canvas of bright, twinkling stars. As her eyes sought out different constellations, she noticed the North Star shining just above the tree line. Her mind went back to a time thirty-three years prior on the balcony of Susan and Shrimpy's London home. She remembered the way her cheeks had burned with embarrassment as the other ladies in attendance had degraded her American upbringing. But her most vivid memory of that night was of Robert taking her in his arms and telling her that above all else, he loved her; he was her North Star. A fresh batch of tears coursed their way down her cheeks at the thought. Did he love her still? Was he still the one constant in her life? Throughout the past three-and-a-half decades, so much had changed. There had been so much loss, so much turmoil. Yet somehow they had always managed to find their way back to one another. But, this was uncharted territory. As she continued to gaze into the night, one thought haunted her and chilled her to the bone: would they ever be able to find one another again?


	18. Chapter 18

_I feel the need to apologize profusely for the lack of drabbles. So many of you have been so wonderful, and have sent me such amazing prompts. But for the last several weeks, I've had one of the worst cases of writer's block I've ever experienced. There are so many things that I want to write, but the words just don't come._

_But when I saw this prompt a couple of days ago, inspiration finally hit me and I think this will be the means by which my writer's brain finally comes back to life. It has young!cobert written all over it. I hope you enjoy this. _

**Imagine person A of your OTP is pregnant and having to put up with some kicks and squirms from the baby which are rather bothersome to A. B then sings to the baby which seems to calm it down or rather lull it to sleep.**

Cora stretched awkwardly and placed a hand to her lower back, trying in vain to relieve the constant ache that had settled there over the past several weeks. Releasing a heavy sigh, she braced her hands on either side of her to give herself enough leverage to stand from her vanity and make her way to the bed.

At nearly nine months pregnant with her first child, any sort of movement took considerable effort, and no matter how she positioned herself, she could never get comfortable. To top it all off, the baby seemed to want to be the most active in the middle of the night when Cora wanted nothing more than to have a restful night of sleep.

Robert, already in bed, observed his wife as she paused in her movements and let her head fall forward onto her chest momentarily.

"My dearest one, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern.

Cora looked up at him and offered him a weary smile. "I'm fine. Just unbelievably tired. I'm not sure I have the energy I know it's going to take to stand from this chair." Gone were the days-at least for the time being-when she could stand gracefully and effortlessly. These days, she felt rather like a turtle that had been turned on its shell.

"Let me help you." Robert slid out of bed and made his way to Cora's vanity where he held out his hands to her. He smiled at the grateful look on her face as he helped her to stand. He took the opportunity as he stood before her to kiss the backs of both hands before kissing her palms. The quizzical look in her eyes did not escape him as he placed yet another soft kiss to her lips.

"What was that for?" Cora questioned.

"Can't a man kiss his beautiful wife?"

A breathy laugh escaped her mouth as Cora shook her head. "Beautiful? Shakespeare was right, then. Love really is blind."

Robert's brows were knit together in confusion. "Why would you say that, darling?"

Cora inhaled and exhaled slowly, uncertainty over her appearance washing over her. "Have you taken a good, long look at me lately, Robert? I'm the size of this house. My hands and feet are swollen. I'm—"

"—still the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on," Robert interrupted. "Never more so than at this moment. You're carrying our child; there's nothing more beautiful than that. And there is no one on this earth more beautiful than you."

Tears threatened to fall as Cora absorbed the words her husband had spoken. "I'm sorry, Robert," she replied softly, placing her hands on her husband's shoulders. "I don't mean to be so melodramatic. I'm just so ready for this baby to come."

"I know," Robert responded as he placed a kiss to her forehead. "And there's no need to apologize. Come on; let's get you in bed. You need your rest."

Cora allowed her husband to help her into the bed where he tucked the covers securely around her before making his way to his side of the bed and sliding in next to her. She did her best to settle down into softness of the bed. She turned to lie on her left side, it being the position that brought her closest to being comfortable. She sighed deeply, thankful when her body seemed to relax for the first time in a long while. It was short-lived, however; within the next moment, Cora couldn't help but gasp as she felt a sharp jab to her ribcage.

Robert bolted upright, a wild sort of panic in his eyes as he turned to face his wife. "What's wrong? Is it happening? Should I send for the doctor?"

Cora suppressed the laughter that rumbled in her chest. "No, darling," she soothed, struggling for a moment to sit up before taking Robert's hand in hers and kissing his fingers. "Your child just decided that it was a good idea to kick its mother in the ribs; that's all."

"Does that happen often?" he wondered, his eyes resting on the swell of her abdomen.

"The baby doesn't often kick my ribs, no. But, he or she is always moving; especially at night."

"Is that why you've been so restless lately? Only I've noticed you've been having a hard time sleeping."

"Have I been keeping you awake?" Cora asked. "Oh, Robert, I'm sorry. "You should just sleep in your dressing room. There's no need for both of us to suffer." Cora loved to feel her baby move; to know that her child was healthy and strong. But, lately, the movement seemed to be never ending. That, along with her ever-increasing girth, made resting difficult.

"Absolutely not," Robert stated firmly. "My place is with you. And you haven't been keeping me awake; I've just noticed that you've been restless." He placed his hand on her belly, smiling when he felt the baby move under his touch. "I think we're going to have our hands full with this little one."

"No doubt about that," Cora chuckled. "And since it will inherit stubbornness from both the Crawley's and the Levinson's…heaven help us." Her hand joined Robert's as she began to run her hands over her abdomen. "Please, my little love; please settle down and allow your mama a little rest." Feeling a series of responding kicks, Cora shook her head. "Definitely more Crawley than Levinson." She laughed at her husband's look of mock indignation before watching his features soften into thoughtfulness.

"I think I know a way to settle the baby; I'll be right back," he declared as he got out of bed and headed for his dressing room. He returned a moment later with a book that, by the looks of it, had been around since the Norman Conquest.

"What is that?" Cora inquired as Robert once again settled himself under the covers.

"A book that Mama used to read to Rosamund and me." He held up a copy of _Songs for the Nursery_.

"Your mother used to read to you?" Cora asked incredulously.

"All the time," Robert defended, taken aback by his wife's disbelief.

"I'm sorry; it's just hard for me to imagine Mama sitting in a rocking chair with you or Rosamund in her lap while reading nursery rhymes."

Robert chuckled. "I know she seems harsh, but she's a softer soul than most people give her credit for—most of the time, anyway. She'll make a wonderful grandmother; I've no doubt about that."

"I'm sure she will," Cora agreed. "After all, she managed to raise a wonderful son."

Robert leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for that. Now," he said, settling back against the pillows and wrapping his arm around Cora's shoulders, drawing her closer to himself, "let's see if we can this little one to sleep." He thumbed through the pages for a moment before deciding on a particular lyric. He began to read the stanzas of several rhymes, many of which Cora herself had heard as a little girl. But after five nursery rhymes, the baby was as active as ever, and Cora was becoming slightly exasperated.

"It's no use, Robert," she sighed as she sank down further under the duvet. "You should get some sleep, darling. I'll be alright."

"I have one more idea," Robert offered. "Maybe singing to the baby will help."

"It can't hurt," Cora acquiesced, desperate for anything that would allow her to sleep for a few hours. She was just about to ask what they should sing when Robert began to sing softly, running his hands over the swell of her abdomen as he did so.

_Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green_

_Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen_

_And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring_

_And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king._

As he continued to hum, Robert could feel the baby's movements begin to slow. Cora noticed it, too, and smiled contentedly. She adored the man sitting next to her, all the more for the life that was growing inside of her. She ran a hand through his hair, prompting him to look up at her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course," he answered as he settled down next to her. "I'm glad I was able to put the baby to sleep. Now you can get some much-needed rest."

"Not just for that," Cora looked into his eyes, hoping to convey the depth of her love and gratitude. "For giving me this life, for giving me this baby; for loving us both so much."

"I do love you, my darling; both of you. Very much." He punctuated his thoughts by kissing her softly on the lips, wrapping his arms around her as he noticed her eyelids beginning to droop. He meant every word. He had never been more grateful or thankful in his life than he was at this moment; to have the love of his life sleeping beside him, and their first child on the way. It was more than he could have ever asked for.

*_Songs for the Nursery is a real book, published in London in 1805. These are the lyrics to Rock-a-bye Baby that are published there._


	19. Chapter 19

_I posted this forever ago on tumblr, but somehow never got around to posting it on here. It's an attempt at modern!cobert. I hope y'all enjoy!_

* * *

Robert looked up from his newspaper at the sound of footsteps running through the hallway. "Mama?" he heard Mary's voice call out. "Mama, where are you?"

"Mary?" Robert's voice was quiet as he stepped into the hall, and scooped up his eldest daughter. "Shh, your sister is still asleep. Why are you looking for Mama?"

"She told me last night that she would have a tea party with me today. But I can't find her." Robert could tell by the way Mary's brow was furrowed that she was not at all pleased that her plans had been thwarted.

"Your mama decided to go ahead to the supermarket while you and your sister were having your nap. She should be back soon."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Mary pouted her bottom lip. "But, I wanted to have a tea party."

"I'm sure mama would be happy to have a tea party with you when she gets back," Robert soothed, hoping to stop what he feared were the beginnings of a temper tantrum. Pinching his daughter's nose playfully, he placed her back on the floor and offered her his hand. "Why don't we go and watch a DVD? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Mary's response was not what Robert was hoping for. She stood stock-still in the middle of the hallway, arms still folded across her chest, a thunderous look in her eyes. "No. I want to have a tea party. _Mama promised me a tea party!" _Mary cried, her voice growing louder with every syllable.

"Alright, alright," Robert conceded, kneeling to Mary's level and placing his hands on her shoulders. "How about if Papa has a tea party with you?"

It always amazed Robert how quickly his daughters' moods could change from one of intense ire to pure, unbridled joy at the mere prospect of getting their way. Mary's face lit up, and she clapped her hands together in excitement. "Really, Papa?"

"Absolutely," he answered, standing and plastering his best smile to his face. "Lead the way, my dear."

As his ecstatic daughter tugged him down the hallway toward her room, Robert couldn't help but hope that the child that Cora currently carried—their third—would be a boy. He adored his daughters more than he could find the words to say, and adored their mother even more for giving them to him. And, he would love a third daughter every bit as much as he loved the two they had already. But, part of him couldn't help but wish for a son; a little boy with Cora's dark hair and bright blue eyes whom he could teach to play cricket and take fishing. He felt infinitely more prepared for things of that nature than for tea parties. However, he was willing to do anything to make his daughters happy; especially if it meant staving off a complete meltdown.

* * *

Cora let herself into the townhouse a half hour later. She sat her shopping bags on the kitchen counter, noting at once the strange sort of silence that seemed to blanket the house. She was sure the girls would be up from their naps by the time she got back, and she had promised Mary that they would have a tea party that day.

She moved into the living room, where she found Robert's newspaper abandoned on the sofa. She was becoming thoroughly confused at her family's absence when she heard giggling coming from down the hallway. Curious, she made her way toward the sound, which seemed to be coming from Mary's room. She found the door to her daughter's bedroom slightly ajar and, peeking through the opening, stopped short and brought her hand to her mouth to stifle the laughter that bubbled up in her throat at the sight before her.

Robert was perched precariously on a tiny pink chair, allowing Mary to put bows in his hair. The giggles had come from three-year-old Edith, whose strawberry blonde curls were still tousled from her nap. "You look funny, Papa," Edith commented.

"I don't doubt that," he chuckled, winking at his youngest.

Cora stood unnoticed in the doorway for several minutes, lovingly running her hand over her swollen belly. Her heart swelled with love as she watched her husband having a pretend tea party with their girls, knowing he mostly likely wished to be anywhere else. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Robert, thankful that her children had such a loving father.

Her hiding spot was discovered soon enough, as Mary caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye and squealed, _"Mama!"_ as she came racing toward her. Cora knelt down and embraced her eldest child, placing a kiss to her cheek. "Papa has been having a tea party with us, Mama!"

"I see that," Cora observed as she made eye contact with her husband. She noticed that he blushed a deep crimson, no doubt mortified that he had been caught with ribbons in his hair and drinking pretend tea out of tiny porcelain cups. Cora smiled and winked at him, a silent communication of her approval. "May I join you?"

"Of course you may," Mary answered in her most grown up voice. "Come sit next to Papa." Robert stood and helped his wife lower herself into one of the chairs. Casting her a sideways glance as he settled back into his own seat, he muttered under his breath, "I can't imagine what I must look like."

Cora took his hand, squeezing it affectionately. "Like a father who adores his children," she smiled. "And, that's a wonderful thing."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Hi, all! I've been going through my archives on tumblr, and I came across several drabbles that I never posted to my one-shot collection. This one is from a request sent to me by the wonderful its-because-of-his-lordship. The prompt was "Get Over It". It takes place during Series 5, Episode 4. Any dialogue from the show has been italicized.

* * *

"_I can't stand that woman_," Robert grumbled, punching his pillow as he fought to get comfortable.

"_No great surprise there_," Cora agreed. One had only to be in a room with Robert and Sarah Bunting for less than a minute to know that Robert would just as soon she were thrown off the nearest cliff as to invite her to another family dinner.

"_I suppose you think I made a fool of myself_."

"_What does it matter_?" Cora couldn't say that she blamed Robert for being upset. Miss Bunting did have a talent for goading him, not caring if she offended him or anyone else; only wanting to make known her disparaging opinions of the aristocracy. But his outburst at dinner had embarrassed her. It was one thing for him to be upset; it was quite another for him to lash out in such a manner when other guests were present at the table.

"_I don't see that you were much better_," Robert continued. She looked at him for a moment, confused as to when this conversation had become about her. "_Flirting and twinkling with that ghastly traveling salesman_."

Cora switched off the light at her vanity and stood up. Her patience with Robert's insecurity and consternation of late was beginning to wear thin. "_Go to sleep_," she ordered, walking toward the bed, ridding herself of her dressing gown in the process. "_And when you wake up, make sure you get out of bed on the right side_."

She slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp at her bedside. She lay facing away from her husband, pondering his words. Flirting and twinkling? She'd done no such thing. She had simply been discussing a painting. She knew that Mr. Bricker had been flirting with her, but it was completely harmless. Wasn't it?

"I'll be glad to see the back of him." She heard Robert muttering under his breath.

"And why is that?" Cora inquired tersely, turning to face him. "Because he wants to include one of our paintings in his book?"

"No; it's for the reason I just gave you: I don't like the way he flirts with you. Or the way you flirt with him, for that matter."

"I was not flirting with him, Robert. I was trying to be a good hostess, and I was discussing something that I happen to have a great deal of interest in with someone who is an expert on the subject."

"You could have fooled me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Please. You cannot honestly tell me that you haven't noticed it. It's so obvious that he has designs on you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cora scoffed. "He most certainly does not." She didn't dare mention that he had called her beautiful earlier that day. And anyway, he was only trying to be kind. There was absolutely no way he actually meant it…was there?

"I can't believe you don't see it, Cora."

"Oh, get over it, Robert." Cora rolled her eyes in annoyance. "He's a friend; someone who shares a common interest. Nothing more. Is it so unfathomable to you that someone would be interested in my opinions on something besides menus and seating arrangements?"

"Of course not. I know you enjoy art and learning about it. You always have. It wouldn't surprise me if you actually knew more about Piero della Francesca than Bricker does."

"But?" Cora waited for the other shoe to drop.

Robert was silent for a long moment. "I just don't like the way he looks at you."

Fighting the urge to once again roll her eyes, Cora simply shook her head and turned back toward the other side of the bed. "Goodnight, Robert," she said pointedly.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: This chapter deals with a character death, so if it isn't something you want to read, I completely understand. Trust me; it was not something I wanted to write. But sometimes you have to write something so that the idea will leave you alone. Such is the case here. Also, I want to point out that this is not intended to show Mary in a bad light. Quite the opposite, in fact. I speak from experience when I say that when a parent dies, our minds conjure up every regret we've ever had regarding that person. That is what is happening with Mary. I believe she adores her mother; she just doesn't really know how to show it. This is how I feel she would react to her mother's passing. I needed tissues to write it, so it's likely that you'll need them to read it. Do let me know what you think (even if it's to throw proverbial tomatoes at me).

* * *

January 1949

He'd found her sitting at her dressing table, her head bent as she dabbed the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. Her shoulders shook slightly as she wept, and the sound of her occasional sniffles tore at Henry's heart.

"Dearest," he asked, approaching her cautiously, "what is it? What's the matter?"

Mary lifted her head toward him, her dark eyes rimmed red, her lips pulled into a thin line in an attempt to hide the way they trembled. "It's broken again," she whispered, looking down at her hands.

"What's broken?" For the life of him, Henry couldn't think what could cause his wife such distress.

She turned to where he now knelt before her, her palms opening to reveal a delicate gold and diamond chain. "Mama's necklace. I had the clasp fixed a few months ago when we were in London. Just before she-" Mary swallowed around the lump in her throat. "But as I took it out just now, I noticed the chain had broken." Henry watched as his wife's face crumbled-the way she clutched the necklace to her chest-her tears beginning afresh. His heart broke at seeing her in such a state.

His mother-in-law had been gone for eight months now, and her absence had cast a shadow over the entire house; one which Henry sometimes feared would never lift. Robert was inconsolable, spending most of his days wandering aimlessly on the estate-anything to escape the emptiness that seemed to engulf every single room, and the small reminders of his wife that were everywhere. The family had not entertained guests since her death. No one could bear to take her seat, and Robert could not stomach the sight her empty chair from across the table. Dinner had become a much less informal affair, with everyone sitting where they pleased and not adhering to any strict social custom.

George sometimes walked with his grandfather. Although his stepson now had a wife and children of his own to distract him, he had adored his Granny, and her death had hit him especially hard.

Henry had not been surprised by the outpouring of grief that had accompanied the death of the Countess of Grantham. Cora had been beloved and admired by everyone in the village. The only one whose reaction had been unexpected in the aftermath was that of his own wife. Gone was the woman whose emotions were guarded; who only ever exuded poise and calm. In her place was a woman who cried at the drop of a hat, who could often be found sitting at her dressing table, watching scenes only her eyes could see.

"Mama gave me this as a wedding present when you and I married." Mary stared at the delicate piece, speaking more to herself than to her husband. "She said she remembered how I had enjoyed trying it on when I was a little girl. I thought her terribly sentimental at the time." She smiled sadly at the memory. "When Edith, Sybil and I were small, Mama would sometimes let us sit in her room as her maid dressed her for dinner, and she would lift us one at a time into her lap, letting us each choose a piece of jewelry to try on. I remember looking at her with wonder, jewels sparkling around her neck, and a tiara fixed in her hair. I thought she looked like a princess." Mary ran her fingers lightly and reverently over the necklace. "She was always so beautiful."

Henry nodded, thinking of his mother-in-law. Her beauty had always defied her age, and even in the final weeks of her life, after the cancer had ravaged her body, on her good days her smile could still light up a room.

"Everyone always told me I looked so much like her, but I could never see it; not really. All I could see were the differences between us. Not necessarily physical differences. The older I got, the more I could begin to see a slight resemblance in our features. But all I ever really saw were our cultural differences." She shook her head, her brow furrowing as she stared at some point on the other side of the room. "And I'm afraid she never knew how much I loved her."

And that was the crux of it, Henry knew. In the almost twenty-four years that he and Mary had been married, he had seen the fissure between mother and daughter; had seen Cora's failed attempts to bridge the gap. He heard the snide remarks that Mary would send her mother's way; remarks about her Americanness, and her inherent sentimentality. Mary had always refused to see herself as half-American, choosing instead to see herself as wholly English.

"I adored her, Henry." Mary's emotion-laden voice brought Henry back to the present. "But, I don't think she ever knew that. All she ever really got from me was rudeness."

"Mary-"

"It's true. Henry, I once called her a snob. Can you imagine? Mama, my darling mother, was the very opposite of a snob. And all because I disagreed with her. I was so blinded by the differences between us that I couldn't see how fortunate I was."

"Mary. Darling, I'm positive your mother knew how much you loved her." Mary shook her head, but Henry continued. "She did. I saw the way she looked at you; the way she smiled at you before she went. In spite of any differences or miscommunications, she knew."

\- [ ] "I should have told her, Henry. Every single day. But it's too late now, and I- I regret so much the thought that I hurt her. So many things I said and did. So many times that I rolled my eyes, or sneered at her. I know how it hurt me when either George or Margaret would become cross and lash out at me. Mama had to deal with a lifetime of that from me. And she didn't deserve it." A sob tore from Mary's throat. "She didn't deserve it."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: The sweet and kind latifraise requested that I post this. To be honest, it's not favorite piece that I've ever written, but I wanted to post it for her. So here it is, darling. This is set in Series 5, Episode 6. It is a scene that I wish we had seen. As always, any dialogue from the show is italicized.

* * *

Robert had just sat down on his dressing room bed. It was cold and terribly uncomfortable, but he could not make himself sleep in her room. Not after seeing Mr. Bricker in there. He picked up the book he had been reading, preparing himself to slide under the covers when he heard the dividing door click open. He turned around briefly and, seeing that it was Cora, turned back in the other direction. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her for more than a moment at a time.

"_What have you told Bates_?" she inquired.

"_Nothing_," was his answer, devoid of any emotion.

"_And he hasn't asked why you've been sleeping in here_?"

"_Certainly not_," Robert scoffed.

He heard Cora take a deep breath. "_I wondered if you might like to change your mind and come back_," she offered. Robert stubbornly pulled back the covers and slid underneath them. He wasn't going to let her have her way; not this time. Seeing that man in her room had broken his heart. He couldn't make himself go back in there. Not now.

"_You heard Mr. Bricker say he was not in my room by my invitation_."

"_How do I know that wasn't just his gallantry_?" Robert countered. He prayed that were true, but how could he be sure?

"_Because I'm telling you_," Cora answered, looking him square in the eye. "_Nothing happened_."

Placing his book on the bedside table, Robert turned to face her fully. "_I'll tell you what did happen. You allowed him into your private life. A man who thought he could step into my place just like that_." He watched as tears gathered on his wife's lashes.

"_He thought it_," she said in a near whisper, her voice faltering. "_And he was mistaken_."

Robert could feel his resolve crumbling. He loved his wife so very much. And he missed her terribly. But, he couldn't give in. Not just yet. He turned his head slightly to avoid the pained look on Cora's face.

Cora, who knew him so very well-better than anyone else-sensed his stubbornness. She knew she'd have to come at this from another angle. Heaving a sigh, she turned toward him once more.

"_Very well_," she conceded. "_If you can honestly say you've never let a flirtation get out of hand since we married-that you have never given a woman the wrong impression-then by all means. Stay away. Otherwise, I expect you back in my room tonight_."

They looked at one another for a long moment before Robert settled further under the covers and Cora went back to her room, closing the door behind her. Robert turned to switch the lamp off, but something stopped him. Images from five years prior flashed through his mind. Things that had taken place within the very room in which he now lay. Things that he had regretted every minute of every day since. He couldn't just lay there now. He couldn't continue to lie to himself. With a sigh, he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Taking a brief moment to steady his nerves, he rose and made his way to the door of his dressing room and turned the knob.

Cora looked up as the door opened. She watched as Robert entered the room, his features a mixture of contrition and trepidation.

"I, um-I thought I might move back in here tonight. If you'll have me," he offered, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

Cora said nothing. She only smiled and pulled back the covers. She trained her eyes on her lap as her husband walked toward the back and climbed in. Both kept to their own sides, the space between them symbolic of the chasm that had formed over the past several weeks. They sat in silence for a long time, both endeavoring to come up with a way to broach the subject that neither wanted to address. After what seemed like an eternity, Cora spoke first.

"Robert," she began as she brought her eyes up to look at him. "I hope you know that what I said is true. I didn't invite Mr. Bricker into my room. He came of his own accord."

"What did he say to you?" Robert questioned, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth. He wasn't sure he could stomach the answer.

Cora took several deep breaths to steady herself before continuing. "I thought it was Baxter entering when he came in. My back was to the door. When he spoke, I turned around and told him to leave. I told him to leave several times, in fact."

Robert nodded. He could feel his hands balling into fists. The nerve of that scoundrel.

"He kept talking of how he could feel something between us. He said that I was-"here she stopped, unsure of whether to tell Robert what was said.

"He said you were what, Cora?" Robert asked softly. "I won't fly off the handle. You can tell me."

"He said that my family ignored me; that I was passed over. He asked me when the last time someone truly cherished me was."

Robert felt his face grow red with anger, but fought to keep his emotions in check. Nothing would be solved if he lost his temper. "What did you say?"

Cora swallowed thickly as a lump formed in her throat. "I didn't get the chance to tell him anything, really," she whispered. "I had started to say that it was still no reason for him to be in my room." She closed her eyes as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "That was when you came in." She turned to her husband. "Robert, look at me. I have to admit that I have felt a bit overlooked lately." Robert opened his mouth to protest, but Cora put her fingers to his lips before he could. "No, darling, listen to me. I know you only think that you're protecting me, and you can't know how much I love you for that. But, Robert, if you say 'It's nothing to trouble you with' one more time, I'm liable to scream. Has it ever occurred to you that I want you to trouble me with it?"

"No," Robert confessed. "I never thought of it that way."

"I'm your wife, Robert; your partner. Your troubles are mine. I want to be involved in what goes on around here. I want to help wherever I can. It's my home, too, you know."

"Of course it is," Robert sighed, realizing now how he had managed to push her aside-however unintentional it may have been.

"I need something to do with my time, Robert," she continued. "The girls are grown, and as much as I wish they needed me they don't. Or, at least, they would never admit to it. I desperately want to help Edith, but she keeps shutting us all out. There isn't much for me to do around the house unless we are entertaining. I want to be needed; to feel useful. That's all."

"Cora, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I let myself get so caught up in everything that was going on that I forgot to consider your opinions." He turned toward her, taking her hands in his. "My jealousy didn't help."

Cora's forehead puckered in confusion. "Your jealousy? Darling, why on earth would you be jealous?"

Robert sighed and shook his head. "You seemed to be so taken with Mr. Bricker. Talking and flirting-"

"I wasn't 'taken with him', Robert," Cora interrupted. "Though I do admit that I enjoyed the fact that someone seemed to value my input. It's been quite some time since I felt valued for my intelligence. I'm sorry that I let it get out of hand. That night in London, he asked if we could see each other again."

"What?!" Robert almost yelled. Cora squeezed his hands in an effort to calm him.

"I put him off, or so I thought. When I told him no, he seemed to accept it. That's why I had no qualms about inviting him back here. But, the next time he came he told me he thought I was beautiful. I told him he shouldn't say such things. I was naïve. I should have never asked him back again after that, but I honestly didn't think he'd ever try to do anything. I was wrong. I'm sorry, Robert. But, I swear to you that nothing happened. You walked in on him trying to proposition me and nothing more."

Robert chuckled. "It seems as if we both kept getting the wrong end of the stick."

Cora returned his laughter. "I think you're right." She turned to face him. "My darling, you have to know that no one could step into your place. Not in this village, this house, and most certainly not in my heart. You believe that, don't you?"

"I do," Robert whispered as he blinked back tears. How could he have ever doubted her? "And I hope that you know how much I truly cherish you, Cora. I don't say it very often, I know. But, I do. I love you more than anything in this world. I hope you know that."

Cora nodded as a smile wreathed her mouth. "I do. And, Robert? Let's not bring this up ever again. I don't want to hear about Mr. Bricker or anyone else. It's just you and me."

"But, Cora, how did you-" Her stern glance silenced him.

"Never you mind. Let's let the past be the past and forgotten. I only want to move forward."

Robert brought her hands to his lips and kissed the back of them before placing soft, lingering kisses to the underside of her wrists. "Mr. Bricker was right about one thing, though."

Cora looked at him, raising one brow in question. "And what was that, pray?"

Robert answered by pressing her back against the pillows. He hovered just above her, and ran one had through her hair as he spoke. "You are beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world. And, I meant every word I said in my anniversary toast. Beautiful, smart, kind, compassionate. I truly am the luckiest man alive. And I won't ever lose sight of that again."


	23. Chapter 23

This is Part One of a three-part drabble series based on Sybil's birth. It has long been the general consensus in the Cobert fandom that Sybil's birth was extremely difficult. My theory is that Sybil was breech. Even now in 2016, a breech birth is not an ideal situation. But in 1895, it was almost considered a death sentence; certainly for the child, and almost invariably for the mother, as well. Childbirth was considered dangerous enough without any further complications, and even now it is the sixth most common cause of death in women in the United States. However, a successful breech birth was not unheard of-just much less common than it is now.

The first two parts of this series are from Robert's point of view; the third is from Cora's. I hope you enjoy my take on the birth of Lady Sybil Cora Crawley.

* * *

Robert's eyes flew open as his head shot up from where it had been cradled in his hands. The sound of yet another piercing cry from his wife drove straight to his heart, and he couldn't help the tears that began to gather in the corners of his eyes. Glancing at his pocket watch, he squinted at the numbers. It had been over twenty-eight hours since Cora's labor began. It had not taken nearly this long with either of their daughters.

Robert rose from where he had sat leaning against the wall of the bedroom gallery. Each time Cora had given birth, his mother had insisted that he ensconce himself in the library, almost as far from the birthing room as one could get. But, Robert just couldn't bear the thought of being that far away should Cora need him.

He almost smiled at the thought; that Cora should need him. If anything, it was the other way round. It was her strength that was his constant encouragement, the source of his never-ending awe. Her ability to adapt to change so easily, her resilience in the face of challenge. She had taken to her role as Viscountess–and then Countess–like a duck to water, almost as if she herself had been born into the aristocracy. Even before he knew he loved her, he had always been immensely proud of the beautiful young woman he called his wife. But now, as the minutes continued to tick by, and Cora's cries of agony continued to grow louder, Robert couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

He knew precious little about the workings of childbirth, his infinitesimal amount of knowledge gleaned from rushing into Cora's room during Mary's birth. Images of her in their bed, writhing in pain and drenched in sweat, had ever since been seared into his memory. The strength of his darling wife had never been more evident than in that moment.

He began to pace the length of the corridor, desperate for something else to occupy his thoughts. On his third time walking past her door, his ears were hit with an eerie sort of silence, one that caused the knot in his stomach to grow tighter. He turned back as he heard the metallic click of the door, hoping against hope to see the smiling face of his mother as she told him of the arrival of his newest child. Instead, he was met with a grey-faced Dr. Clarkson, who stepped cautiously into the hallway before closing the door behind him.

"Is the baby here?" Robert enquired, his heart beginning to hammer behind his ribcage. "My wife. Is she alright?"

"Lord Grantham, may I have a word with you?"

"What's wrong, Doctor? What's happening?" Robert felt the tenuous hold he had on his emotions begin to unravel.

"We've run into a complication…"

"Oh, dear God," Robert pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Lord Grantham, the baby is breech. It's…it's being born backwards. From what I can tell, the child is in a frank breech position which is a best case scenario, if such a thing is possible."*

"I don't understand. What does this mean?"

Dr. Clarkson took a deep breath. "Lady Grantham is exhausted from the prolonged labor. Because of the position it's in, it is going to take every ounce of strength she has to get the baby out. I've given her chloroform to allow her to rest for a bit. She's asleep now. The new recommended procedure for this type of situation is to perform a cesarean section…"

"A what?" Robert's mind was reeling.

"It's a surgical procedure that involves opening the womb and delivering the baby. But, I'm not familiar enough with the procedure to perform it, and the baby is too far into the birth canal to be turned. What I'm saying, Lord Grantham, is there is a possibility that either Lady Grantham or the baby–quite possibly both–may not make it."

Robert leaned against the wall for support, his knees suddenly threatening to give way. Tears began to course their way down his cheeks. "Can't you save them?" his eyes pleaded with the physician.

"I'm going to do everything I can, I promise you that. Um, if it should come down to a choice…"

"Save my wife," Robert spoke firmly and without hesitation. He watched as the doctor nodded and headed back into the room before once again sinking to the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut against the threat of more tears, he breathed a silent prayer that God would spare them both; that he would not have to live his harshest nightmare.


	24. Chapter 24

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! This is Part Two (from Robert's perspective), and reveals how I believe Cora came to be Sybil's middle name. The prompt was received from its-because-of-his-lordship: "I can't go in there".

* * *

He could no longer say what time it was. Minutes had blurred into hours, and the continued cries of agony from behind their bedroom door had left Robert at the end of his tether. It was the stuff of his worst nightmares; the thought that he could lose either or both of them. He had heard stories of women lost in childbirth, but until today the thought had never entered his consciousness that his wife could be among them. He buried his head in his hands as he leaned over the railing of the gallery, his fingers grasping at his hair until he was sure he would pull it out. He couldn't bear the waiting; the uncertainty. How much longer could she hold out? A day-and-a-half of labor. He knew his Cora to be strong. But even her strength had its limits.

Robert cursed under his breath. Pregnancy had never been easy for Cora. The nausea and dizziness, the swelling and fatigue; it hurt his heart to see his wife in an almost constant state of discomfort-even more so knowing he was essentially the cause of it. And yet she never barely complained. She smiled through the tiredness and illness, commenting that somehow it was all worth it to be able to bring new life into the world. Cora longed for nothing more than a nursery full of children. She adored and doted on their daughters, spending much more time with them than was deemed strictly necessary-certainly more than most women of their station. His heart sang every time he saw her with them. His mind beat wildly against the thought that the world could soon come crashing down; that there was a very real possibility that he could be left a widower with three small children. Cora had to come through this. She just had to be alright.

His mind had scarcely the chance to register the quiet which seemed to fall suddenly over the gallery when the lusty wail of an infant reached his ears. Robert wept at the knowledge that their child had made it safely into the world. But what of his wife? Had she survived?

He knew better than to rush into the room until he had been summoned. He had done that once; when Cora had been in labor with Mary. The sight that met him-and the vice-like grip of his mother's hand on his arm-had propelled him back into the hallway, forced to wait out the ordeal in solitude.

But now, as he listened to the cries of their new baby lower to soft whimpers, he wondered what was taking so bloody long. Why wouldn't someone come out and tell him what had happened?

He had almost made the decision to throw propriety and caution to the wind and enter the birthing room uninvited, his mind teetering on the edge of madness, when the door clicked open, revealing Dr. Clarkson.

"Is she alright? Did she make it?" The questions tumbled from his lips.

"Lady Grantham is doing as well as can be expected, considering what she's been through," Dr. Clarkson answered. "But, it's going to take her quite some time to recover. Measures had to be taken to help her along. But, she's come through it. I'll be back later in the day to check on she and the baby. The nurse is cleaning them up now. You'll be able to see them shortly. I've given Lady Grantham something to help her sleep. As you can imagine, she is quite exhausted. She may sleep for several hours."

"Thank you, Doctor. Truly. We owe you a great deal." Robert couldn't hide his relief as he shook the doctor's hand before walking him to the top of the staircase. As he turned back toward the gallery, he caught sight of his mother. His eyes immediately went to the small bundle she held in her arms, and he couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face.

Violet offered her son a small smile, one that did not quite reach her eyes as she handed over her newest grandchild. "I knew you would be anxious. The nurse said it was alright to bring her out here. It's another girl," she said, a tinge of disappointment evident in her voice.

"She's beautiful," Robert whispered, his eyes sweeping over the baby's dark lashes and hair.

"Did you and Cora have a name in mind? I know you both were hoping for a son-"

"We were hoping for a healthy child, Mama," Robert countered. This was not a conversation he was willing to have. He was too relieved and his heart too full of love to dwell on the baby's gender. "To answer your question: yes; we have a name. We had decided, should it be a girl, to call her Sybil."

"Sybil." Violet seemed to mull the name over in her mind. "I think it's a fitting name. And her second name?"

In truth, a second name had not been decided upon. Robert thought of the different names that had been suggested, none of which seemed to fit. He was about to tell her so when the baby blinked her eyes open, revealing their blue brightness. "Cora," he whispered.

"Really?" Violet questioned. "I can't imagine your wife suggesting her own name."

"She didn't." Robert was transfixed. This baby was the very image of her mother. "But, look at her, Mama. She looks just like Cora."

"She is quite pretty, I admit," Violet conceded, which caused Robert to grin. He knew it was a close to a compliment as one could ever get from his mother.

Robert made no effort to take his eyes away from his new daughter. Violet touched his arm gently and took her leave. He barely noticed. Nor did he notice the tears that had gathered in his eyes until he saw one drop onto the soft blanket that held his child. He chuckled softly. "We should go in and sit with your Mama, little darling. But, I can't go in there like this, can I? Your mother wouldn't want to see my crying, even if they are happy tears." Extracting his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped at his eyes. "Now then," he sniffled, replacing the cloth in his pocket. "Shall we?"


	25. Chapter 25

And now for Part Three! This is from Cora's perspective, and takes place after Sybil's birth. The prompt was "on the edge of consciousness". As always, thank you for the reviews. The site isn't allowing me to reply to them, but please know that I appreciate each and every one!

* * *

Cora blinked awake, her mind hazy and her eyes struggling to focus on what was going on around her. She allowed her head to roll to one side, the worried face of her husband the first thing to become clear.

"Robert?" Her voice was barely a whisper, her throat dry. She watched as relief washed over his face as he took her hand in his.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed. Bringing her hand to his lips, he placed several kisses to her knuckles before holding it tightly against his chest. "You gave us quite a fright, love."

She swallowed thickly and licked her cracked lips in an attempt to recover her voice. "The baby. Is the baby alright?" She was vaguely aware of the dull ache between her legs and the emptiness in her belly that told her that she had indeed given birth, though she had no clear remembrance of it. She could recall the doctor saying he would do his best to save them; that the baby was in a difficult and dangerous position. But she couldn't recall much of anything else. She had no recollection of hearing her child cry, no memory of a sweet weight being placed in her arms.

Robert smiled then, reaching to brush an errant lock of hair away from her face. "She's perfect, Cora. The most beautiful baby I've ever seen."

Cora's brow furrowed, tears gathering on her lashes. "A girl? I had another girl?" Her emotions warred within her, torn between the desperate need to see and hold her baby, and the desire to slip back into unconsciousness; away from yet another barbed comment from her mother-in-law about her apparent inability to provide Robert with an heir, away from her own insecurities in regards to what many would perceive as her failure. She closed her eyes, unable to face what she feared most: her husband's disappointment.

She felt Robert's hand on the side of her face, his thumb running along her cheekbone in an effort to dry the tears that had begun to fall.

"Cora? Cora, look at me."

She turned her face toward his voice, her eyes opening to take in his soft expression.

"You have made me very happy today, Cora; just as you always do," he continued, his voice soft but firm. "I have three beautiful daughters, and the strongest and loveliest of wives. I could never ask for more than that. And I'll not have you thinking otherwise."

Cora allowed a small smile to grace her lips before turning imploring eyes toward him. "May I see her?"

"Of course." Robert placed one last kiss to the back of her hand before helping her to sit up. Her face contorted into a momentary grimace as he settled her into a seated position, causing him to still his movements.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, no," Cora exhaled, her muscles slowly beginning to relax. "I'm just sore is all."

Robert nodded. "The doctor said that it would take you awhile to heal. He wants you to stay in bed for two weeks at least."

Cora offered no protest as she watched her husband make his way to the cradle that had been placed in the corner of the room. She didn't fancy the idea of so much idle time, but knew better than to argue. She watched as Robert picked up the tiny bundle, placing kisses to the baby's cheeks as he held her in his hands.

Walking toward her side of the bed, Robert smiled up at her before bringing his attention back to the baby. "Lady Sybil Cora Crawley, it's time you met your Mama properly."

Cora's eyes grew wide with wonder as tears stung their corners, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sybil Cora? I don't remember settling on a middle name."

"We didn't. But, when I saw her, I knew no other name would do." He was beside her now, and Cora held her breath as he leaned over to place their child in her arms.

"Oh," Cora breathed, completely enraptured as she looked at her baby. A fresh round of tears slid down her face as her youngest daughter's eyes opened, revealing brilliant blue orbs that were a mirror image of her own. Cora lifted her smiling face to her husband, who now sat on the edge of the bed. "Oh, Robert. She's perfect."

"Just like you," Robert answered, reaching to stoke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Cora blushed under his loving attention before returning her gaze to her child. She realized, as she observed this new life she and her husband had created, that this was the reality she had always wanted, whether or not she had been aware of it. And nothing could compare to the joy she now felt, her daughter in her arms, and her husband by her side.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews for my small series of drabbles concerning Sybil's birth. Each and every one means more than you could possibly know.

This is another series that I posted on tumblr in 2015, and deals with Cora and Robert's relationship in the aftermath of Sybil's death. I love receiving prompts on tumblr, and sometimes several of them will seem to fit with a certain plot within the show. Such was the case with these next three. This is part one. The prompt was "How could you do this?"

I received a bit of backlash on tumblr for the way I wrote Cora in this piece, the belief being that I had written her as far too harsh. But, I believe I have written her as she was portrayed in episodes 3.05 and 3.06: a woman whose heart had been broken by the sudden and untimely death of her youngest child; a woman whose anger over the entire situation was projected on to the person whom she held most dear-her husband.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Robert made his way slowly along the gallery toward Sybil's bedroom. His steps grew heavier the closer he drew to the room, the grief in his heart at the events of that night threatening once again to bring him to his knees. Pictures of his youngest daughter flashed before his mind's eye: holding her for the first time, her bright blue eyes gazing up at him; the way she would laugh as he tickled her; running through the gardens as she tried to catch a butterfly; the grace with which she conducted herself when she was presented to the King and Queen; the brilliant smile she had gifted him with when he gave her his blessing to marry Branson. She was only twenty-four years old. How could she have been taken from them so soon?

He paused at the door to her room, the word of his eldest daughter still ringing in his ears. "Mama said to ask you to sleep in your dressing room tonight." In thirty years of marriage, Robert could count on one hand the number of times Cora had banished him from her room. All of those times had been out of anger. He couldn't understand her reason for doing so tonight; not when he needed her so desperately.

Robert pushed the door open, his eyes filling at the sight before him. Cora sat in a chair next to the bed. She held Sybil's left hand in her own, the fingers of her right brushing the hair from Sybil's forehead. It reminded Robert of various times throughout the girls' childhood when he and his wife would sit beside their beds and comfort them through whatever was ailing them. It broke Robert's heart further to know that this was something that neither of them could make better.

"My beautiful baby," he heard her whisper, the words barely audible even in the silence of the room. "My sweet darling."

Robert closed his eyes as the tears spilled over. His baby girl. His darling little Sybil. How could this be?

"Cora?" his voice broke the silence that blanketed the room after he had taken a moment to collect himself. "Darling, you need to come to bed; get some rest."

He watched as her back straightened and her head lifted. And though she faced away from him, he knew that she was setting her jaw and fortifying herself against her emotions. She said nothing. Against his better judgment, Robert walked the few steps to where she sat and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He flinched when she jerked it away.

"How could you do this?" The ice in her voice filled the space between them, he

"What do you mean?"

She finally turned to face him. Her stare was cold, yet somehow burned holes through Robert's heart. "How could you do this?" she repeated. "How could you make the decision that took my baby's life?"

Robert took a step back, his eyes widening at his wife's accusation. "Cora-"

"No," she interrupted, standing from her chair. "I will not listen to you try to make excuses, Robert. The evidence was there. It was there, and you and Tapsell ignored it. You let your blessed English pride and the weight of a title cloud your vision as to what was best for our daughter. How could you do that? How?" Cora voice had risen in volume as tears coursed their way down her cheeks.

"I thought I was doing what was best for Sybil. Sir Philip has a reputation as an expert. That's why I hired him. After Clarkson's misdiagnosis of Matthew, I just didn't trust him judgement."

"But, you did trust the judgment of someone who, up until two days ago, had never laid eyes on our child."

Robert sighed as he cast his eyes downward, studying the elaborate pattern of the rug. "I don't know what you want me to say, Cora."

"I don't want you hear you say anything," Cora answered, her voice dangerously low. "But, I do want you to look at your daughter, Robert. Because this," she said, pointing to where her daughter lay, "this is all your fault."


	27. Chapter 27

Thank you all so very much for your sweet and wonderful reviews! Here is part two! The prompt was "You wouldn't understand."

* * *

Cora's eyes went to the door to her bedroom as she heard it click open. She looked away quickly as she watched her walk across the threshold. His trepidation was palpable.

"Good morning, Cora," he offered, clearly uncertain of how he would be received.

"Good morning," she replied coolly. When Robert didn't say anything, she looked at him expectantly. "Was there something you needed?"

Robert exhaled audibly. "I want to begin by saying that I didn't come in here to argue with you." At this, Cora was tempted to roll her eyes. "But, you're not being fair. I know that I made the wrong decision. Darling, you have no idea how much I wish that I could go back and change everything about that horrible night. But, you act as if you're the only one who lost Sybil. Cora, she was my child, too."

Cora closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. "I know that, Robert," she answered, not daring to look at him. "I know that you're hurting, too. But, it's different for me."

"How?" he questioned. "How is it different?"

"You wouldn't understand," Cora trained her eyes on her lap.

"How can I understand if you won't talk to me?"

"Robert, I really don't want to talk about this right now." She didn't have the energy to fight.

"I wish you weren't so bent on shutting me out, Cora. I want to understand."

Cora knew that she couldn't avoid this conversation any longer. "It's different for me because I'm her mother. I know that she was your daughter, too. And I know you miss her. But, I was the one who carried her inside of me for nine months. I was the one who gave birth to her. I was the one who nursed her. I was the one who was charged with protecting her. And in the end, I couldn't protect her. She was laying there, writhing in pain and struggling to breathe, and there wasn't one thing I could do to stop it. I couldn't protect her from Sir Philip Tapsell-"

"And you couldn't protect her from my decision," Robert finished her sentence.

Cora heaved a deep sigh. "No; I couldn't." The crestfallen expression on her husband's face did not escape her notice, and it made her heart constrict. In spite of recent events, in spite of all of the heartache they had endured, she still loved him so desperately. It made the battle raging within her that much more difficult to bear. "Robert," she said quietly. "I know that you didn't mean for what happened to happen. I know that, in your mind, you thought you were doing what was best. I know that you were hesitant to listen to Clarkson. But, why wouldn't you listen to me? I knew something was wrong. I knew something was wrong, and you wouldn't listen. I want to forgive; I do. I want to move past this. But right now, I can't. By doing that, I've accepted what has happened. I'm not ready to do that. I can't do that. I can't accept the fact that my baby girl is dead."

She watched as Robert covered his mouth with his fist, tears filling his eyes. "I'll leave you, then," he murmured as he headed toward the door. Cora closed her eyes and turned her face from him, the sight of him so broken threatening to render into dust the wall she had built around her heart. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the quiet of the room before she finally gave herself over to her own tears.


	28. Chapter 28

Part Three: "How long has it been since you last slept."

* * *

The car ride back to the abbey had been mostly silent. Robert was grateful that Cora had allowed him to hold her as they cried together. The pain of losing their youngest child-along with the knowledge that her death was inevitable-had been too much to bear. Cora had initiated physical contact for the first time in weeks, reaching out to take his hand as they drove up the gravel driveway toward their home. Neither could speak; the events of the day had been too overwhelming. But, Robert knew that the gulf that had separated him from his wife since their darling Sybil's death had finally been bridged, at least somewhat, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief that he would no longer have to navigate the choppy seas of grief alone.

Carson greeting them at the door upon their arrival home. "Luncheon will be served in twenty minutes, my lady."

"Actually, Carson, could you have O'Brien bring a tray to my room in half an hour? I'm feeling rather tired," Cora answered, turning to head toward the staircase.

Robert looked at her, concern etched across his face. "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Cora nodded, granting him a ghost of a smile. "I am; I just need to have a lie down is all. Give my apologies at luncheon, and tell everyone I'll see them at dinner."

Robert smiled in understanding before watching his wife slowly ascend the stairs to her bedroom. He noticed the way each step she took seemed to take considerable effort, as if she were having to make herself put one foot in front of the other. Robert attributed it to the news they had just been given. It had knocked the wind out of them both.

After a mostly silent luncheon, Robert made his way to Cora's room, intent on making sure she was alright. He hoped against hope that she no longer harbored any resentment toward him, but he was still uncertain as to how she would react to him being in her bedroom. As he reached the door, he could hear the sounds of cutlery scraping against china. At least she is eating, he thought to himself. He had watched for days as Cora pushed her food around on her plate, with only a handful of bites actually making it to her mouth. He worried constantly for her well-being, but any attempt at expressing his concern had been swiftly met by yet another acerbic remark.

Bracing himself for what he feared would be another rejection, he pushed the door open and entered her room.

She deposited her fork and knife onto the plate upon his entrance, and looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry to bother you while you're eating," he stammered.

"You're not bothering me. I had just finished," she replied, moving the tray to one side.

"You haven't eaten very much," he observed.

He watched as Cora shrugged and lowered her eyes. "I just can't seem to get my appetite back," she said softly.

Robert approached the bed with caution. "May I sit here?" he questioned.

"Of course," she intoned. She moved to set the tray on the floor, making room for Robert to sit down.

As he lowered himself onto the bed beside her, Robert took in the dark shadows under Cora's eyes. He remembered the way she had walked slowly up the stairs. He wondered if she was getting enough rest. Clearing his throat, he reached across the bed and took one of her hands in his. "Cora?"

"Hmm?"

"How long has it been since you last slept?" His voice was heavy with concern.

Cora pressed her mouth into a thin line as she considered the question. "The last time I had a restful night of sleep was a couple of nights before Sybil…before Sybil passed away." She closed her eyes in defeat, the battle against her barely-contained emotions swiftly lost as tears spilled down her cheeks. She tightened her hold on Robert's hand, her eyes staring unseeing across the room.

"What are you thinking, darling?" Robert inquired, noting the subtle change in her demeanor.

"About the natural order of things." Robert's eyebrows knitted in confusion as she went on. "It should have been me."

"Cora—"

"No, it should have been," she insisted. "No mother should have to bury her child. I know that I'm not the first mother to have to do so, but it isn't right."

"No, it isn't. But do you honestly think that things would somehow be better if it had been you instead of her?" Cora shrugged half-heartedly. "Yes; the baby would still have her mother and Tom would have his wife. The girls would have their sister. But, Sybbie wouldn't have her grandmother; the girls wouldn't have their Mama—"here, Robert swallowed around the lump in his throat—"and there would be no point to anything anymore if I didn't have my wife."


End file.
